Shower Epiphany: I am a creature of doubt.

There are moments in which for many a heart beat may pass and a quick shuttered eye closing off to the world if only a moment where I doubt myself in any and every way and method possible. I question motives, actions, desires, ramification and multiple chain reactions that most would not dare to utter. I self analyze and expose all, including myself in a quick rational calculative biopsy that often leave me silent for those moments that hang heavy. How a thought in the wrong chain, an uncorrectable action, a misplaced breath can the razor's edge between greatness and utter misery.

I am hard on myself since I know no one can ever be so on me. I am my worst critic, my greatest opposition, my loudest detractor. I search for pin holed weaknesses that can be used to ridicule, disarm and render my action mute. I repeat thoughts in different magnifications in order to know unintended innuendos, blasphemies and taboos are cross out of calculated risk rather than haughty blindness. I review minutes lost to time and rebuild the wreckage of failed attempts, Freudian slips, and bovine compliments. I throw myself against thought and wit as athletes would ram themselves against oppressive opposition and angst antagonistic antimatter.

My greatest fear is not having language and meaningful vernacular leave me speechless and impotent in the only method I am able to convey intent, attraction and passion which other well catered phenotypes are able to simply strike opulent poses to declare beauty and magnificence. I have to become dependent on a silver tongue of a cunning linguist, golden flash of nimble fingers and a sharpened mind to compensate my lack of physical woo.

My greatest fear is arriving at convincing and gaining the open trust of anyone willing to entertain and indulge my barker like spell that in the wrong hands would exchange ownership for fraudulent stock in fallen fortune 500's, bridges, and moments where a quick and nimble tongue, much like a brown fox, would bound over lazy dogs of thought. At best, my voice may rally Henry's Chrispin soldiers, inspire the museless and woo those who value a well placed word and promise.

My greatest fear is believing in my own ability.

Then....and only then will what magic I can conjure with picture's worth of effort be diminished and any edge will become dull and harmless.

No.....I must not trust my ability in order to continue to hone and sharpen it.

It's the only way enchantment may exist in my analytical existence.

Some moment I rue the day I learned was not physically appealing. Other days I mock fully morn those who are.

Look what the me dragged in.....

Yea......I'm back.

So sorry.

So much to share.

Promise to be blunt and graphic....so forgive me?

Shower Epiphany: We are all going to die. Sorry, spoilers

Shower Epiphany: We are all going to die. Sorry, spoilers.

You might want to get something to drink or whatnot. This one is going to be long.

There comes a time where we are forced to really take in our mortality. If it's me, that's at least once a week. More if I don't have adult supervision. I contemplate things that I do not have the answer for not because I find comfort or that I get some sort of moral understanding on how the Universe/Gia/god/Karma is supposed to be. In fact, I would have to say I'm a little bummed about it not because I have to leave, but because my experience here is going to be limited.

Life is the greatest theme park in the world.

Let that sink in.

It's the greatest place in the world where everything is always getting better as well as always breaking down. I'm a child of Entropy (how I miss my real name, fuck you FACEBOOK) so I understand how things change, fall apart, become ordered and then fall apart once more. I get it. And yet, this most amazing theme park we are not allowed to get on all the rides even if we were given fast passes at dawn and dragged away kicking and screaming at closing time. Old events will go away and new ones will take their place. The rides will get better until we get so old we have to sit on benches and watch smaller versions of our genome run and scream without us. We sit there until we have to go for what ever reason.  It's not fair. We leave too early. Some times we choose to leave when we do not find what we want or are taken away by forces we can not control (me at Knott's when I ate that candy apple at 9 years old).

But that's how it is. We don't get all the experiences either. There are moments that are frightening for some and enjoyable for others. Some have more monetary worth than others and have bistro meals while we share the churro. It happens. All of this can suck and dampen your joy.

Or you can not let it.

I see life this way. I would have to say that I lived a good amount so far and seen thing that most will never and won't see. I won't see and witness things either. They can be horrifying like the taking of life or beautiful such as cresting the galaxy on a space ship into a new world. So, yea. I'm bummed. As of now I will tell you what I know:

I will not get the full value of my E ticket. Just because race, gender, sexuality, class, fear in others and physics do not permit me to. Sucks, but hey, I guess I just have to share stories with others....ever wonder why I know so many? Got to make them all.

All the cool stuff I want to do will be limited to me due to time, ability, wealth and mind frame. Unless I get the right mind frame then all that other shit can fuck itself.

I'm only as old as I allow myself to be. I call it my Batman theory. Batman is an old fucker and I'm getting there if the fairies allow me......fucking killer fairies....so as long as I build my body I can enjoy it all. I will learn to parkour, play guitar like a god, sculpt my form as I see fit and avoid the wheel chair for as long as possible and if not I'm converting that bitch into a rot rod because fuck you.

No, I'm not all me and chances are I'll never get to be. I'm broken. So the fuck what. I like me and my broken ass is going to have some fun!

I was never allowed to do many things. Then again I never asked for permission, advice, pardon, excuse, or blessings. Watch me or get the fuck out of my way.

Fuck Orangutans. They know what they did! If I hit 50 I'm going to punch the fuck out of one. I figure I'll give it a handicap and not punch one out now......fucking orange shitballs....

Everyone else is having more sex than me. Since I started early I can say that we're going to be even in the end unless I start up on that again. Then, sorry. I gave you 6 years to catch up, you unmotivated bastards.

I almost felt bad for doing what I do best. I almost fell for it, but hell I do it so well and I've seen the new generation. They can't EVEN reach where I dropped the bar much less where I'm going to place it. Sorry, Freddie taught me well. You place that bitch high so that even the Greats of Today have to look up and realize they pale in any greatness of before. Sorry, that's just how it is. Heed the call or be someone's bitch.

The greatest wisdom was given to me by my French Fry girl as a huge wave slammed her silly ass into the beach without any time to brace or run. She looked up and screamed, "I DIE COOL" as it hit her as if she was declaring to the world she was going to be Queen of the Pirates. That ingrained in me. Don't worry, just die cool.

I look good in scars. I just do. Hell, they just look damn good on me. I would say they look good in me too!

I don't see myself besides anything but Brujah. I read like I drink and I fight like I woo; With no fucking restraint. I don't think I'm going to change much in the next decades or so, so yea. That's my lot. Just have to keep doing what I do unless I become someone's bitch and we already know that is not going to happen. Some of you are just going to bitchless. Nice try, but no.
I realize something. I came in on my own. I grew up on my own. I did things on my own. I go away on my own. I'm probably going the same way, so.....yea......I'm fine with that. As much as I love you guys, I probably won't tell you when or where if I have a choice and in the end it will most likely be my choice. I will just go away and that is that. My death. My way. 

On how you should grieve, I still recommended my way. Huge gathering, music, booze, food, booze, gorgeous women.....who will bring booze and maybe some gorgeous guys too. (Just note, if you bring me booze you are gorgeous just by association to booze. That's how it works so no more getting me drunk and handsy) Celebrate my death as you would my life and you would any great celebration until you forget why you are celebrating and keep celebrating. Oh, but sober up to get to the waiting taxis outside. You have to do that much. And no pukies! Have some fucking restraint even if I never needed it!

You....you could be mean. And I... I drink all the time. Cause we're lovers and that is a fact. We're lovers and that is that. (I wanted to share with you the most awesome Bowie lyric ever. Your welcome)

Lastly, Peace and Love.

That's it.

Go be inspired as fuck and move onwards!

Me?

Gonna figure out how to mine for parkour and how I can be King of the Pirates. It's my world.

You just live in it.